


Stained Glass

by Algedonics



Category: Zero Escape (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of temporal maybe-character death, POV Second Person, Spoilers for 999's endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 22:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16146743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Algedonics/pseuds/Algedonics
Summary: What would you do to save your sister's life?





	Stained Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr in 2015 or so. It's been a while since I had anything to do with this fandom, but I recently reread the fic and thought that it was still pretty good. Enjoy!

Light offered you a place to stay, and you, tiny and young and fragile after your sister burnt alive (and didn’t, you remembered, she didn’t, she-) accepted. The Field family was nice enough, a mother and daughter and son and you. The time passed like a blur, and sometimes Akane was there and sometimes she wasn’t, like a hallucination that you and Light and Clover all shared.

When it was good, it was good. Akane would laugh and smile and she loved having a sister her age. She looked up to Light, and he was calming and comforting in a way that you thought you were jealous of (and you were jealous of it, you wouldn’t admit it to yourself but you were, the way his quiet laugh filled up a room and the way he would actually win schoolyard scraps and how he still had a sister, a real living sister, not a vague phantom hovering on the edge of all of your lives).

When it was bad, there was a yawning void in your life, and you saw Akane in everything you did but she still wasn’t there. She existed as a wisp of smoke, a light dusting of ash, the sickly-sweet smell of church candles as they winked out.

Light took you there, on occasion, and you didn’t see the appeal until one late afternoon, when the parish was quiet and the sun was beginning to set. The two of you sat on the pews, silence only broken by the turning of the heavy plastic pages of Light’s book, and you looked up. The sun had settled into an angel’s halo, and the bright yellow flared into the room, setting it alight with (fire, and you winced) energy. Slowly, it sank into greens and blues and reds. Your hands were shaking, and they were beautiful.

You looked over to Light, his face awash in the same cool blue as his eyes, when he bothered to open them, and hair still caught in vivid yellow. “Hey, Light.”

“Yes?”

“If it had happened to Clover, what would you do?”

Light frowned, fingers finding his bookmark and placing it lightly between the pages. He closed it, fingers tracing the edges of the cover, holding it with reverence, like your question had unsettled him, made his grip on reality falter and the book was the only thing keeping him grounded. (Good, a part of you thought, and you were disgusted with yourself.)

His fingers found each other, entwined, and he leaned forward to rest his chin on them. Slowly, quietly, a sickly smile began to form. “I wouldn’t stop until Hongou was dead,” he finally replied.

The church was still. You smiled. Akane, a few pews over, smiled too, and then vanished. The dust motes danced in the stained glass light.


End file.
